


Shake It Out

by Orange_Clown



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adam Young!Arthur, Aziraphale!Merlin, Crack, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crowley!Morgana, Drunkenness, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange_Clown/pseuds/Orange_Clown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Merlin and Morgana discuss how one Arthur Pendragon managed to mess up his own reincarnation.</p>
<p>Or, the Good Omens fusion you never asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake It Out

Over the years, Merlin had found out that being drunk was the best way to deal with Morgana.

This had been true in Camelot, despite Arthur doing everything in his power to keep his rather hapless manservant away from anything with a high alcohol concentration, and had only grown truer throughout the centuries they were forced to spend in each other’s company.

And when you sort of had a hate-hate relationship with each other, every small advantage helped.

Wine had gotten them through many a rough point in Albi- sorry, _England’s_ history, and it was, in Merlin’s opinion, also serving them very well tonight.

“Trust my brother,” Morgana disgustedly, waving her drink around in a _very_ careless manner, “To get himself reincarnated as the freaking _antichrist_.”

Privately, Merlin rather agreed but he also felt morally compelled to disagree with anything that Morgana said. It was probably a bad habit. “I’m sure he didn’t _mean_ to get incarnated as the antichrist. He was always rather against that sort of thing.” Maybe. Probably. Not that antichrists were much of a problem in Camelot.

Morgana gave him a look. “And that’s one of his problems. He never _means_ to do anything. It just so _happens_ that they occur. Like being the Once and Future King. Or getting Excalibur. Or that time that he stole my practice sword and _accidentally_ broke it. Why I remember-“

Hastily, Merlin cut her off. They had passed many vaguely-pleasant nights by ranting to each other about Arthur Pendragon’s (many) faults, but he didn’t really think that this was quite the time.

“How _did_ this happen anyway?” he asked. He’d thought that the Powers That Be had this whole ineffable plan thing going on. Ineffable. What a strange word. Ineffable always sounded a lot like feathers to Merlin, like the ducks that he and Morgana fed at the pond. What if they’d brought Arthur back as a duck? Would they let a duck be king?

Merlin imagined a duck with a crown on its head, wielding a tiny sword and wearing Arthur’s haughty expression. The duck was just beginning to glare at him in a _very_ familiar manner when Merlin gave himself a shake. He looked at the bottle on the table in apprehensive respect. He hadn’t even had _that_ much to drink yet.

While he’d been ‘away with the fairies’ as his mum had always said, Morgana had kept talking. “… made a mistake. Arthur was _supposed_ to be the diplomat’s son, but something went rather _awry_ and the wrong soul was put into the wrong body and _then_ the wrong kid was given to the wrong person, now everyone is stuck with an antichrist who lives in the middle of nowhere that used to be the King of Albion and is a noble prat to boot.”

“They were going to have Arthur be _American_?” Merlin asked, startled. The bewilderment temporarily chased away the pleasant fuzziness in his head.

“No, they were going to have the _Antichrist_ be American. Apparently it’s a good country for it. You expect it there.” Morgana said. “Arthur’s actually where they want him to be. They _had_ to bring him back now, because the end of the world and fulfilling prophecies you know. Thought him being a country bumpkin would be closer to the legends but they waited until the last minute and there was the third baby, so…”

Merlin shook his head, placing a hand on his forehead as the movement sent a sharp pain through his skull. “I’m confused. I thought there were only two kids?”

“There were, but one was an extra to be swapped out with one of the kids.”

“Which was the antichrist. Which was also Arthur. But wasn’t Arthur already one of the other babies? Did he replace himself?” Merlin wasn’t quite sure if that was possible, but if it was, Arthur would do it. Merlin was quite positive about this.

“Souls, Merlin, we’ve been through this. There was a mix-up even before the baby swap.”

But wasn’t the baby swap the first thing? Merlin just stared at her a moment before he gave up. There were some things that shouldn’t be contemplated while drunk, and the workings of ineffable plans were one of them. “How do you even _know_ all this stuff? It’s like you’re, you’re-” he waved a hand vaguely. “-something. Something that knows a lot of things.”

Morgana reached over and took the wine glass out of his hand. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, Merlin.”

Merlin scowled. “Haven’t. M’fine. Give it back.” He tried to take it back from her but missed, finding her to be in a different place than Merlin had originally thought she was. Because of course _she_ was still completely sober, despite having just as much to drink.

He ended up tripping over one of the chairs and sprawling face-first onto the carpet. After a long moment, he looked up to find Morgana smirking at him.

“You were saying?”

Merlin groaned and closed his eyes. “Sobering up now,” he said.

“That would probably be best,” she said.

A few muttered words and some golden eyes later and Merlin was as good as new.

“What’re we talking about again?” Well, almost. The spell came with a _slight_ side effect, useful for when you didn’t want to remember anything that you’d done while drunk. Merlin had perfected it whenever Gwaine had dragged him down to the tavern to show him something… interesting.

“Arthur. Antichrist. Ring a bell?”

A pause. “Oh, right.” He pushed himself off the carpet. “I suppose that we have to go and check up on him then,” Merlin sighed.

“Well, we’re certainly not going to let him decide the fate of the world by _himself_.” Grabbing the keys to her ridiculously expensive car, Morgana strode to the door. “Let’s get this over with. I want to go back to bed.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but got up to follow her. “You slept through the entire 14th century. Wasn’t that enough?”

“There is never such a thing as too much beauty rest. Now hurry up. We have my show-off of a brother to retrieve.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I shouldn't be allowed to read things. I actually have a whole cast list worked out for who's who, but... if I extended it it would probably end up being rather like the book, which would be boring both for you to read and for me to write.S


End file.
